On this snowy morning in early December, I came upon a little documentary on the Youtube called "Children Full of Life." It follows a fourth-grade class in a school near Tokyo through the course of a school year (April to March), highlighting moments which brought the students closer together. These included dealing with deaths in the family of several students, bullying, and the question of whether a student would be allowed to ride a raft he and his classmates had built.
Through it all, 57-year-old teacher Toshiro Kanamori teaches not only traditional academic subjects like maths and language, but seeks to instill in his class the value of life, responsibility, and working hard for others. At times he comes across as tough and perhaps a little mean, for instance during the bullying and raft episodes. Yet in each case his willingness to let the students discuss the problem, devise solutions for it, and be open with one another, all point to a deep sense of empathy, care, and commitment to providing life lessons. Referring to the raft incident, Kanamori says:
"The raft was not the problem," he says, watching everyone enjoy the fruits of their labor at the school's swimming pool. "The children said the solution should match the problem. They were absolutely right. I was really impressed. Even adults can't say that. That was excellent. That was perfect. A perfect victory for them."
I enjoyed the documentary for many reasons, though in particular because it stands in contrast to, first, a stereotype that Japanese education primarily involves rote memorization and drill; and second, a trend in education which emphasizes academics and test performance over personal development and socialization skills. And I while I don't doubt school in Japan is rigorous, I was caught off-guard when Mr. Kanamori asks on the first day of the new term, "What are we here for?" to which his class responds, "To be happy!"
What are we to make of all this? First, that we are seeing only a small fraction of what goes on in a single classroom over the period of a single year. These episodes are interesting and suggestive, but they are mere glimpses into a complex social environment, and selective glimpses at that. I found in reading the comments on the video that many wished they had experienced a class like that in school, or had a teacher like Mr. Kanamori--that his strict-yet-tender approach, coupled with a commitment to inculcating a sense of family among the students, is beautiful to behold. But again, we only see so much, and do not live our days in those students' shoes. We don't attend school 240 days a year, from about 8:30am-3:40pm, or sweep and polish the floors everyday; and we don't experience all the pressures and social conventions that life in Mr. Kanamori's classroom requires. We see the results--a tightly-knit class in a tidy classroom, overseen by an understanding teacher--but little of the process or culture that made it possible. I think this is one reason why documentaries like "Children Full of Life" are so influential, but rarely provide clear direction on policy; the message they send is clear, but the steps toward realizing it are not.
On the other hand, "Children Full of Life" does confound stereotypes (mine anyway) about Japanese school life, and shows how a group of relative strangers can--given a certain context--become like a family. When individual students lose members of their family, as happens on two occasions in the documentary, we see the class come together to support them. They write heart-felt letters, and share their own experiences of death in their families. The resulting emotions are not always easy to process, and some students hoping to comfort their friend end up in need of comforting themselves; but no one suffers alone, and emotional trials like the death of a father end up being a learning, and perhaps more importantly, a growing experience for everyone. This becomes apparent when the class decides as their final project to write a letter in the school-yard to the dead relatives of their classmates, so big that it could be read from the sky. It's a moving scene, and the culmination of what sounds like a remarkable period of personal growth for the class.
I encourage you to watch the documentary for yourself, and see what thoughts it elicits. It's well-made, and whether it speaks to you or not, I think it offers a fascinating perspective of an element of culture, and how it answers the question of how to live well.
